


To Serve and Protect

by laurie_ky



Series: Keep on Moving [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, post season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurie_ky/pseuds/laurie_ky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisa's big brother has always looked out for Lisa, even when she didn't appreciate it.  Since Lisa's old boyfriend from wilder days has shown back up, Johnny Braeden intends to make sure this Dean character is safe for Lisa and Ben to be around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Serve and Protect

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to Talisman, (Part one of the _Keep on Moving_ series.

This story is a sequel to _Talisman_

 

 **To Serve and Protect**

 

So I heard through the family grapevine – my sister Lori – that an old flame of Lisa's had surfaced and was staying with her and Ben.

“How old of a flame?” I asked Lori, the mouth of Indiana. Because some of those ex-boyfriends had been bad news, Ben's no-good daddy among them. Lisa had gone through a wild phase in her late teens, as soon as she'd turned eighteen and graduated from high school. For a couple of years, she'd partied like the world was ending, although she'd settled right down as soon as she found out she was pregnant with Ben. Eventually she even married, although that marriage went down the tubes right after the five year anniversary. So I was a little concerned that some guy from her past was back. Hey, she's my baby sister – the day I stop worrying about her is the day I'm planted six feet under.

Lori giggled. “I don't know if you ever heard us talk about a guy named Dean that she met when she was twenty--”

“Stop right there. Dean as in,” I made my voice go falsetto, “such beautiful green eyes, eyelashes a model would kill for, and the cutest _freckles!_ ” I let my voice drop back down to its normal baritone. “The boy she thought might be Ben's father, before the biker got awarded that honor?”

More giggling from my other baby sister. “I guess you did hear us going on about him, after he'd blown in and out of town. I wonder if Lisa kept those pictures she took – you know he was only with her for a day or so back then, but they've been in touch a few times over the last couple of years, and about two weeks ago, he just showed up on her doorstep, she told me.”

“And she took him in, right? Biggest heart in Indiana, and he'd better not break it, or I'll be breaking fingers.” Lisa was too kind for her own good sometimes, and everybody came to cry on her shoulder because she'd listen and not judge. She'd offer support and help you figure out what to do next. Hell, I've cried on her shoulder a few times myself. She's a good person, my sister. Her husband was an idiot for letting her go, and this Dean character had better not be taking advantage of her.

“Well, I met him the other day, and let me tell you, he's like a fine wine – he's only improved with age.”

“Does he have a job or is he sponging off her? I really don't give a crap about his big green eyes or how _fine_ he is.”

“Lisa's putting out feelers with people. He's a mechanic and he's done construction work. Knows how to weld, but I don't think he's ever worked with livestock or on a farm. He could do appliance repairs – he fixed Lisa's cranky old washer and then the word got out so I'm pretty sure he's now fixed something for just about all of her friends. Things like toasters and dryers and lawn mowers and Maggie's central air and heat. He's not just hanging around, Johnny.”

“Stop, and take a breath,” I said in my best cop voice. “Or I'll have to write you a ticket for breaking the speed limit on talking.”

Amused, she laughed for a moment before going on. “Hey, want to meet him? I know Mom and Dad do. As a matter of fact that's why I called you. I talked Lisa into bringing him to the next mixed league game – she hasn't played in two weeks and I guilt tripped her good – and the parents are throwing a surprise bar-b-que afterwards at the old homestead. We'll just sweep him along in a herd of Braedens after the game, and you can grill him all you want over beer and hamburgers.”

“I didn't make the last two games either. Why was I spared the guilt tripping?”

“Silly. Police work trumps softball. But I hope you can come this week. The next game is this Thursday, at 6:30, at Community Park.” Lori sounded hopeful. She loved family get togethers.

“Oh, I'll be there. And Lori? Tell everybody to keep quiet to this Dean guy about me being a cop from Indianapolis. It makes some people nervous and I wouldn't want to spook Lisa's old boyfriend before I get to know him.” Actually, I liked to assess the body language of people when they learned I was a detective, and I wanted to read this Dean's reaction.

Lori then caught me up on other family news, my grandfather's fishing trip up in Michigan, my brother Tom's promotion to captain at the fire station, her son's latest trip with the Boy Scouts, and that mom and dad had repainted the living room. Again. Mom always loved the color of the paint she'd pick out, until it was on the walls. Then she'd turn up her nose at it, and in a few months she and dad would repaint it again. It was a vicious cycle and I felt deeply sorry for dad. But not enough to volunteer to help him paint.

When the chatterbox had finally run down, we said our goodbyes.

Green-eyed Dean. You could bet I'd be running his name after this Thursday.

///

 

I made a point on Thursday of getting to the ballpark early enough that I could observe the parking lot from one of the shelters, and not be readily seen myself. Lisa would probably give me hell if she realized I was, in effect, doing a stake-out on her new – old? – boyfriend. She'd be just as annoyed as when she was seventeen and I followed her and that no-good Michael Wilson all the way past the bridge on Carrigan Road and out to the stretch next to the reservoir where all the kids went to park. Maybe seeing a patrol car in his rear-view window had killed his desire to screw my little sister – the guy'd been stupid to be bragging about his intentions in a town the size of Cicero – because when I pulled in right beside them he'd thrown up his hands and driven her back home.

Lisa had been pissed. I wouldn't be as blatant today when I checked out this guy, and I did respect that she was an adult now, but even adults can be taken for a ride.

Most of the players for the evening games had arrived, kids tumbling out of trucks, SUVs, and cars with bumper stickers bragging about how their kid was an honor student at Cicero Adventist Elementary School or Hamilton Heights Middle School. Lori and Tom and their spouses had arrived, along with my other brother Joe and his wife, and players from both teams were sprawled along the bleacher seats talking with friends and changing into cleats, or warming up their pitching arms and practicing scooping up ground balls.

I wasn't expecting Lisa and Ben to emerge from the black Impala – a beauty of a classic car that had rumbled into the parking lot. Obviously this Dean cared about his vehicle – well, Lori had said he was a mechanic.

I wrote down the license plate number.

Ben said something to Lisa and then took off towards a group of kids who were messing around on the basketball court. Dean didn't get out of the car until Lisa opened the driver's side door and talked to him for ten minutes. Finally, he unfolded himself from his seat and stood up next to her, shaking his head a little.

Okay. Looks like he's reluctant to get involved with things Lisa likes to do. Strike one.

She put her hands on his shoulders – he was tall, taller than her, anyway, and my cop's eye put him at around six feet, give or take an inch. Broad shoulders, short darkish-blond or light brown hair, but not a buzz cut, and his weight seemed average for his height. He looked to be in good shape.

She was still talking to him, and they were too far away for me to make out what was being said. But I know my baby sister and she was pouring out the empathy for this guy.

He'd better be worth it.

Finally, she kissed him and stepped away, making it his decision to come with her or sulk in the car. A look of trepidation crossed his face, and then a look of determination chased it away. He reached into the back seat and took out Lisa's ball bag and slung it over his shoulder. Lisa took his free hand and he smiled at her, and it seemed to me that I could see both gratitude and sadness in the look he gave her.

They walked over to the ball field reserved for the mixed league game tonight, and I met them there a few minutes later, as Lisa was introducing him to family members and to both team members.

///

 

I swept Lisa into a hug that lifted her off her feet and she laughed as I put her down.

“Dean, this is my oldest brother, Johnny. Johnny, this is Dean. Dean's an old friend of mine and he's staying with me and Ben.”

I aimed a friendly smile at Dean, sticking out my hand. He was looking a little overwhelmed but he seemed to be coping okay with the deluge of introductions, a charming grin on his handsome face.

Dean returned my handshake, and I noted the calluses on his palms and fingers. He had a strong grip, and now that I was closer I was able to confirm that he was a muscular man.

“I didn't catch your last name there, Deano. You planning on staying at Lisa's or will you be moving on?” I spoke casually, but Lisa whapped me on my upper arm.

“Honestly, Johnny Braeden. When are you going to give up the big brother act?” Lisa was laughing but her eyes were giving me a message to drop the inquisition.

“Hey, once a big brother, always a big brother, right, Deano? You got any younger brothers or sisters?” I was looking straight at him, and I saw him blanch, before he recovered and shook his head.

Strike two. I didn't know why, but he'd just lied. I'd bet my detective's shield on that.

“Dean... what did you say your last name was again?” This time he answered me.

“I go by Dean, okay? My mother had a thing for James Dean, so my first name is James and Dean is my middle name. My last name's Page.”

“James, not Jimmy? Jimmy Page?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I know, okay. I've only heard it a million times. So I don't go by Jimmy Page and I don't go by James Dean Page. Dean Page, that's me.”

 _Well, Mr. James Dean Page, green eyes, freckles, age approximately early thirties, we'll see if there are any warrants out on you._

Just then Raymond, who manages the team, came over and gave Dean an assessing look.

“George, Sally, and Joey aren't going to make it. You look like you could run the bases and not get winded. How about playing on our team tonight?”

Raymond's request caught Dean off guard. “I, uh... I don't think I've played any baseball or softball since elementary school. Just, you know, out on the playground, or once in a while in gym class. You'd be better off picking someone else.”

Raymond shrugged. “This isn't the major leagues. We're all here to just have fun. You'll be on Lisa's team. She can go over the rules with you, but the main thing for guys is to bat with your non-dominant hand. So if you're right-handed, bat left-handed.” He thrust a T-shirt into Dean's hands. “Team shirt. It's mandatory that everybody wears one.”

Dean turned to Lisa. “I'll probably mess up. It'd be better for your team if I just watched.”

Lisa put her hands on her hips. Ut-oh. Surprisingly, I felt a little sorry for Dean.

After Lisa had changed Dean's mind, he pulled off the plain dark green T-shirt he was wearing and changed into the shirt Raymond had given him.

And I noted that he had unusual scarring on his left shoulder. Burns of some sort, and it almost looked like a hand print. He also had a sun and star tattoo on his chest, and wore some kind of weird looking necklace – the thing had an ugly face with horns on it. I'd include those descriptions when I ran the background check on him.

///

 

Us Braedens were divided among the two teams, and after our usual hilarious style of play, my team lost by two runs. Two runs that Dean batted in before I tagged him out at third.

Game over, I helped him up from where he'd made a valiant attempt to slide into third base. He was covered in dirt, and he was laughing.

“You sure you haven't played since you were a little kid? 'Cause you're kind of a natural at it.”

“Nah, never stuck around enough in one town to do stuff like sports, but my dad, he liked playing baseball. Well, he did when I was really little. I remember going to the ball park, kind of like those kids” – he waved a hand in the direction of where some small fry were busy with their own games in the dirt – “and watching him play and ending up looking pretty much like I do right now.” He looked down ruefully at his shirt that proudly proclaimed he was a Morse Reservoir Beaver and his jeans, both the color of good Indiana soil.

I slapped him on the back and he coughed on the cloud of dust that rose from his shirt.

“C'mon. I've got extra jeans with me. I'm a little taller than you, but I think the pants will fit, and I can pick them up at Lisa's house sometime. And you've got the shirt you came in to change back into. We're all headed out to my parent's house for a cookout, and you can wash the dust out of your throat with some beer.”

He laughed again, and he looked more like a twelve year old kid than a thirty year old man.

I could see why my sister liked him. Right now, right at this moment, he was happy. It was kind of catching, the way he was enjoying himself and I found myself laughing too.

I was starting to hope that the background check didn't find anything on him.

///

 

The jeans were a little too big in the waist and Dean rolled up the legs so they didn't drag on the ground, but otherwise the borrowed jeans fit him well enough.

He'd tried to decline going to the cookout, but everybody had ganged up on him. It was Ben who'd convinced him. The boy had asked him to come and be on his team for Frisbee, and I could see the desire to please Ben winning over whatever reservations Dean had about being stuck in the middle of a crowd of curious Braedens.

My parents came out on the front porch when cars started parking along the road and in their driveway. There was a flurry of hugging, and grandkids racing through the house, and Lori plunked her baby girl into my mother's arms. Lisa introduced Dean; he said and did all the right things and charmed my parents.

I got the feeling that it was an act, though. When he wasn't actually speaking to someone his facial expressions shifted to looking wary, and well... the last time I'd seen something like that look was when I'd been at the Castleton Square Mall and noticed a little girl pining for a puppy in the window.

My mother had put him to work peeling spuds for the potato salad, and Dad had been bending his ear, finding out if Dean had any painting experience under his belt. Last month my father had repainted the living room, and Mom was already talking about re-doing it. Dad was ready to latch onto Dean like a drowning victim grabs onto an untrained rescuer, and I probably should warn Dean about becoming ensnared in the never-ending cycle, but – no. If Dean was going to be hanging around my sister and my nephew then he could just learn to put up with our family idiosyncrasies.

It was a noisy and lively party, and Dean didn't look relaxed, but he did look intrigued at this part of Braeden family life.

While Dean was keeping his promise to Ben to play Frisbee, I cornered Lisa.

“You know that he didn't tell the truth earlier, don't you? About not having younger siblings? Just how well do you know Dean, Lisa?” She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me down the hall and into an empty bedroom. She shut the door and then poked me in the chest.

“I know him well enough to understand that he's a good man who's had a hard life. And don't you dare go and badger him about his brothers. They both died a couple of weeks ago and the grief is eating Dean alive. I'm glad he came to me, I'm glad that I can repay him for all he did for me and Ben. You get me, Johnny? I know you want to protect me, and actually Dean would be the first to understand why you act the way you do, but Dean doesn't need you hounding him right now. I'm not seventeen anymore, I'm not being rebellious and showing it by hooking up with some wild man. Dean and I have a shot at building a future together, and we're feeling our way right now. He's sleeping in the guest bedroom, if that helps you to back off. Just... give him a chance, Johnny. Please?”

I held out my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I'll play nice. Hey, I let him borrow my clothes, didn't I?” She shot me a look that I easily interpreted as 'I know you were looking for an excuse to come by the house and be nosy about him.' True.

“Did you know his brothers?”

“I met Sam a couple of times. He was very nice. His half brother, Adam, I never had the chance to talk to him. Actually, Dean only became aware that he even had a half brother not too long ago. But he was very, very close to Sam. He has nightmares, Johnny, almost every night about Sam and Adam dying. He doesn't have any family left – well there are two friends that he considers to be family that he's mentioned, but one, Cas, is out of the country, and Bobby lives somewhere out west. Dean stayed with him right after his brothers died.”

She sniffed, hard. “He hasn't told me all the details of how they passed, it's too painful for him to talk about. Actually being at the game today, and this cookout – it's been good for him. He's been able to forget for a few minutes how sad he truly is. So, Johnny Braeden, I want you to go out there and offer Dean a beer and talk to him about baseball or fishing – maybe you boys and grandpa can go and drown some worms in the reservoir this weekend and take Dean and Ben with you – and be pleasant to him. Because you love me, and I could fall for Dean P-Page like a ton of bricks.”

She pushed me towards the door; I went out and she headed into the bathroom. A few tears had trickled down her face when she'd been explaining about Dean's brothers' deaths, and I was sure she wanted to splash some cold water on her face before venturing back out to the party. Biggest heart in Indiana, after all.

 

///

 

I did offer Dean a beer. I suggested a fishing expedition this weekend, and that my grandfather would be glad to take charge, since he took any opportunity he could to throw a line in some river or lake. Grandpa hadn't been able to stop by tonight – It was his night for squiring his ladyfriend over at Dosi Squares, in Noblesville, for an evening of square dancing.

The topic of fishing for trout came up and as usual, my dad held out that corn was the best bait to entice a juicy trout to swallow your hook, and my brother Joe contested that by lecturing on the effectiveness of worms instead. I'd heard it a million times before, but it sure entertained Dean. Of course, the third and fourth beers I'd pressed into his hands might have helped.

Shortly before the hamburgers and hotdogs were finished, my brother Tom came in, along with Shorty, one of the guys from the firehouse. Tom had had to make a pit stop at the fire station after the game, and I hollered at him that if he'd been any later, we'd have eaten every last crumb and not saved him a bite.

It was a big, fat lie – my mother would have saved back plenty for him – but Tom played along by sassing me back.

Then Shorty spied Dean and grabbed Tom's arm, interrupting him. “That fellow there, he's the one I told you about – you remember, don't ya? The wreck at Hwy 19 and East 216th St? Two weeks ago or so?”

Dean looked trapped and sprang quickly out of the lounge chair, ready to leave the back deck.

I got in his way.

“Hold on there a minute, Dean. Tom, what's Shorty there yammering about?”

“He thinks Dean is the one who pulled that woman and her two kids free from a wrecked car on 19; it caught fire right after a man risked his own life to get the family to safety. We arrived on the scene shortly afterward and Shorty was told the story and the man was pointed out, but he left. Refused to talk to anybody.”

I turned to Dean. “That true, Deano? Did you enter an accident scene, without being under the supervision of the police or the fire department and take it upon yourself to move accident victims away from their vehicle?”

Dean looked stricken. “Look, that car was old, and it was leaking gasoline, there were fumes everywhere, and the engine was still running. I shut it off, sure, but there was a good chance that the car was still going to go up in flames. Those older models don't have the safeguards the newer ones do. I couldn't wait for the fire department or the cops. What? Did I hurt them because I moved them? I'm sorry, I knew it was a risk and I took it. But burning up in a fire? Man, there is nothing worse. So what now? Am I in trouble?” He wasn't being obvious about it but he was preparing himself to run if he needed to. I found that reaction very interesting indeed.

“Of course you're not in trouble, son.” Tom walked over and held out his hand to Dean and after a moment's hesitation, Dean gripped it. “If it wasn't for your quick thinking and heroism those three souls would be in Heaven right now. After you skedaddled, it did catch on fire.”

“I'm no hero.” There was a disgusted tone to his voice. “The mother, and the two little girls – they're really okay?”

“The mother has a broken arm, and one of the kids had a concussion, but that wasn't from you moving them. The mother says you were like an angel come to rescue them, and that you even had a sword that you used to cut them free of the seat belts.”

“Uh... the mother's seat belt was jammed, and the way the car was angled it was easier to cut the belts on the kid's seats. I just used a knife. Guess it is kind of big, but it's nowhere long enough to be an angel's sword.” As soon as he said that he looked like he wanted to grab the words back. “I mean, I've always imagined an angel's sword to be bigger than a knife.”

“Well you saved their lives. I understand that you might be staying with Lisa for a while? If you plan on making your home here in Cicero, we can always use cool heads and strong bodies down at the fire station. Have you ever thought about being a volunteer fireman? There's about eight of us who are full time paid firefighters, and about forty firefighters who are volunteers. If you're interested in joining than you'd go through a dual training, EMT and firefighter. We could use a man like you. You've already had your baptism of fire.”

Dean looked at Tom like he'd just offered him a winning lottery ticket. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a fireman. I wanted to save people. And you're saying that if I take this training I can be one?” He smiled then, in relief, and I felt there was something else in his expression. Like the idea of being a firefighter, saving people, was anchoring him. “Awesome.”

Mom hollered that we were ready to eat, and for dad to bring in the meat from the grill.

After we were all practically groaning from all the good food we consumed, and the kids were running around in the dark catching lightning bugs, I handed over the last beer from the cooler to Dean. He drank it down, a more peaceful look on his face than he'd had when he'd first walked up to the front porch this evening.

Joe and Lori gathered their respective broods and made their goodbyes. I made small talk with Dean about that black beauty of his and he told me that it had been his dad's car and he'd given it to Dean years ago. He mentioned that he'd rebuilt it himself after it had been totaled in an accident. I asked him if he'd been hurt and he nodded. He'd almost died and his father had passed away from his injuries. He changed the subject, asking about what kind of work was available in this area, and I gave him some names of garages, and guys that did construction work and sometimes hired on extra help.

He seemed like a jack of all trades sort, and I asked him what kind of training he'd had. He shrugged before he said he only had a GED.

Lisa came out of the kitchen where she'd been helping mom put away food; she pulled Dean up out of his chair and yelled for Ben that it was time to go home. She held out her hand and waited expectantly till Dean fished his car keys out of his pocket and dropped it on her palm. “I could have drove, m'not drunk,” he grumbled.

She kissed him. “You're not drunk, but you have had a few beers, and we wouldn't want the cops around here to pull you over.” She shot me a mischievous look, and I realized Lisa thought I'd mentioned that I was a cop. Well, we were all going fishing on Saturday and I'd tell him then. After he checked out.

My parents joined us out on the back deck and Dean told my mother that the cheeseburger he'd reverently devoured, with her special dill pickles, and homegrown tomatoes, was the best one he'd ever eaten. He said it with sincerity and although I suspected he was just saying it to make her feel good, it certainly sounded like he meant it.

After a round of goodbyes and last minute conversations, Lisa, Ben, and Dean made their way to his car, Dean giving instructions to Lisa on how to drive his baby, and Lisa patting his arm, before they climbed in and drove off. Lisa lived about fifteen minutes away, and Lori only about five. Everybody but me still lived in Cicero. I'd moved to Indianapolis a long time ago. And being a cop wasn't something that I was just when I was in the city. Even here at home, in this small town of maybe 4,500 people, I was still a cop and I thought like a cop and I acted like a cop.

I went over and wrapped up the empty beer bottle Dean Page had put down so I could take it with me back to the crime lab and run his prints. Between me checking his name and license plate through the computer and seeing if there were any hits from the prints, I'd know if he was the good guy my sister said he was.

I hoped so. I'd watched him be kind to Ben tonight and Lisa was attracted to him, and he seemed to think highly of her. He'd risked his life to save that family after the wreck, and he talked like he was serious about becoming a volunteer firefighter. He could be a good addition to this little lake community.

I hoped that he was clean. But I wasn't going to assume he was, not when he was a stranger and he was wanting to get close to my family.

I was a cop. I would protect my family, and if James Dean Page couldn't respect that when he found out I'd done a background check on him, then he didn't deserve Lisa or Ben. And I'd put up with Lisa being mad at me. She and Lori were my baby sisters. I'd do anything to keep my family safe.

The End.


End file.
